


That's The Beauty Of A Secret

by TheForgottenDreams



Series: I Said 'I Love You' [10]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Enjolras Is Bad At Communicating, Intervention, Lies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForgottenDreams/pseuds/TheForgottenDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She’s ruthless, she doesn’t care about feelings or privacy - just exposing what she thinks she knows to the world, she needs to learn there are consequences, but of course she won’t because she’s Floréal, she’s untouchable.” Enjolras fumed, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the ceiling. “She doesn’t know we have a right to privacy and that what we do if between us and us only. She’s a vulture, ready to swoop on any vulnerable person.”</p>
<p>“I do love it when you rant about other people when I’m trying to be sexy.” Grantaire told him, sitting up from where he’d been kissing Enjolras’ neck, instead he straddled Enjolras, sitting on his stomach, hands on the blond’s chest, eyes locked onto Enjolras’</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's The Beauty Of A Secret

“Enjolras, have a seat.” Éponine spoke as soon as he entered the apartment, she herself was sat in the middle of his sofa, Combeferre and Courfeyrac on either side, arms crossed, matching expressions on their faces as they glared at him from across the room. Enjolras knew them well enough to know this was an interrogation. 

“Why?” He asked, he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to shower and then to go meet Grantaire to unwind after his recording session with Musichetta – it hadn’t gone badly, but he needed a break and Grantaire had the afternoon off to talk and well, maybe do other things that required their mouths…

“We need to talk.” Combeferre answered, the windows on the far side of the room were open, filling the room with sunlight and a light breeze, but despite the summer outside, inside the atmosphere was like winter, cold, thick and unshifting. Ominous background music played and no, he wasn’t imagining it. 

“What is this music?” Enjolras frowned, dropping his bag and taking off his shoes before padding over to them. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t find any good intervention music so we have a creepy background music playlist from YouTube.” Courfeyrac explained, bright pink nails tapping on the screen of his iPad, “I’m going to put some nicer music on now.”

“So this is an intervention?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow, standing behind the chair they’d placed in front of the sofa, in front of them. The music was cut off and instead replaced with some mellow guitar. 

“Of sorts.” Éponine answered, never one for flowery language, a thing he did love her for, but at times like this he needed more than her short answers. 

“What are you intervening?” 

“Have you been on Twitter lately? Seen any of the music gossip pages?” Courfeyrac asked, hazel eyes locked onto Enjolras’, curls looking unrulier than normal though still with pink streaks that matched his tank top and the flowers on his patterned shorts. 

“No.” Enjolras frowned, his phone had been turned off since he’d seen Musichetta crush one in her bare fist when he’d been early to record and the singer before him refused to turn it off. “Why?”

“There’s been a lot of speculation about you and Grantaire.” Combeferre took over, obviously trying to approach the topic carefully in that way that showed they thought Enjolras was a six-year-old. Not that there was anything wrong with six year olds, just that Enjolras was sixteen years older than that so he expected to treated like an adult. 

“What about me and Grantaire?” Enjolras asked, the sentence making his heart jolt, he hoped his face didn’t give anything away. These three were particularly good at reading him like a glossy gossip magazine – easily and with morbid curiosity.

“Well, you’ve both been gaining more interest as the rising star in the music industry and Grantaire’s band is quite well known now they’ve got their EPs released, they’re a few songs away from an album too.” Combeferre said, “So the paparazzi have been looking out for any information they can get on 1832.”

“There’s also Floréal.” Courfeyrac added. Enjolras felt himself pull a face. 

Floréal Vernier was a notorious gossip queen, she ran a show where she interviewed musicians and had a weekly feature in one of the most prestigious music magazines. If you hadn’t been interviewed by her, you basically didn’t exist. If she liked you, your talent and your answers to her questions then you could have a million fans overnight but if she didn’t, you’d never have a career in the music industry again. Enjolras had never met her but Grantaire and his bandmates had been on her show several times throughout the process of their album and each time Grantaire has flirted and acted interested to her face, but after had ranted until Enjolras made him stop.

“She’s tweeted some things about you both.” 

“Ughhh.” Enjolras groaned and he sank onto the chair they had pulled in front of them. It was the comfy red one that Jehan liked to curl up in when they were song writing. 

“There’s a series of photos of you and Grantaire that have been leaked, leaving the party the other week, looking very close, driving around together, in the park when you saw Grease and so on.” Combeferre explained, “And there’s been a lot of speculation about who you are, what your importance is to Grantaire and so on. Floréal has been stirring stuff up as per usual.”

“Basically, they think you’re either dating or fucking Grantaire.” Éponine told him, seeing the look on his face, “We need to know if you are so, we know how to deal with this.”

“We’re not dating, we’re just friends.” With benefits, Enjolras added the latter in his head, trying to appear cool and nonchalant when inside he was running around, arms up, screaming. “I left the party early because I felt ill and Grantaire didn’t want me to get worse so he looked after me, we drive around because we’re friends and the Grease thing happened because everyone else cancelled.”

“Don’t get shirty with me, Enjolras, none of us are judging. I think it’s nice you and Grantaire are friends, you could do with more than just us three and Jehan.” Éponine told him, “But you know what the media is like, they know R is bi and with 1832’s album release being soon, they’re trying to make some kind of excitement until then.”

Courfeyrac spoke up next, “As PR, I need to know what’s happening. I’ll be working with Feuilly so we don’t get contradictions, Grantaire will be having this talk with him and Cosette right now.”

“Tell them we’re friends, that romance isn’t the be all and end all and that my business is my business, I don’t have to tell them anything.” Enjolras sighed. 

“I feel like that’s going to make it worse, but we’ll work together to make some tweets later, okay?” Courfeyrac asked, smiling hopefully. 

“Okay, I want those things in it though.” Enjolras replied, the idea of a smile lurking at the edge of his lips. “You can flower them up all you want, but the essence is there.” 

“Of course.” Courfeyrac laughed. 

“Before you get all happy again, Floréal is demanding an interview with you.” Combeferre interjected, eyes grave behind his glasses, Enjolras pouted at him. 

Éponine took over, voice authoritative and Enjolras was once again please they were his support, “She contacted me this morning, we just need to schedule a time that’s convenient for you both.” 

“And I have to do it?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

“This interview could make your career.” Éponine shot back, “Rejecting would put Floréal against you and that could be catastrophic at this stage. I’ll get the band to help you through some coaching for dealing with her, but it’s inevitable, Enjy, you’re going to have to do it.” 

“Fuck my life.” 

“My sentiments exactly.” Combeferre sighed. 

 

-

 

“She’s ruthless, she doesn’t care about feelings or privacy - just exposing what she thinks she knows to the world, she needs to learn there are consequences, but of course she won’t because she’s Floréal, she’s untouchable.” Enjolras fumed, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the ceiling. “She doesn’t know we have a right to privacy and that what we do if between us and us only. She’s a vulture, ready to swoop on any vulnerable person.”

“I do love it when you rant about other people when I’m trying to be sexy.” Grantaire told him, sitting up from where he’d been kissing Enjolras’ neck, instead he straddled Enjolras, sitting on his stomach, hands on the blond’s chest, eyes locked onto Enjolras’  
,  
“You’ve done this to me before.” Enjolras frowned at him, because he had, Enjolras had ended up shutting him up by kissing his mouth and refusing to break away from it. Grantaire hadn’t complained then. 

“Touché.” Grantaire raised an eyebrow, running his fingers along Enjolras’ bare torso. No effect. He sighed and rolled off Enjolras, onto the bed beside him, laying on his side to look at the blond, “I can tell we’re not getting anywhere until you rant, so go on.”

“Okay so, yes, maybe yelling at her wasn’t the best response and walking out after she asked too many questions.” Enjolras sighed, turning to face the brunet. “I left Combeferre and Courfeyrac doing damage control, they’re not happy with me. I haven’t seen Éponine but I bet she’ll go Godzilla on me.”

“I can imagine; Floréal can make or break your career and I would put money on the fact you’ve pissed her off good and proper – no one has ever walked out of one of her interviews before, or yelled at her about their right to privacy or sung a song telling everyone to fuck off.”

“But Jehan approved of the song, we wrote it together.” Enjolras felt the whininess in his voice and hated it. Hated all of this. He just wanted to spend time with Grantaire and write his own music without anyone interfering or trying to get all the information. “And okay, maybe I added in the swearing when I saw her sat there with that smug look on her face.”

“Ah yes, ‘but I don’t have to fucking tell you anything’.” Grantaire laughed, meeting Enjolras’ eyes, “I liked it, it was very abrupt and to the point. Accurate too, I bet everyone can relate.” 

“I’m just sick of everyone thinking they have a right to our private lives, a right to this.” He gestured between the two of them. “What we do together is between us and no one else.”

“I get it.” Grantaire nodded, “You’re a private person by nature so I understand but would it be so bad if-“

He was cut off by his own voice. Enjolras felt his face flush and he rolled over to grab his phone quickly before his ringtone Grantaire would sing anymore. Because having the guy you’re in love as your ringtone isn’t creepy. At all. 

“Hello.” Enjolras answered cautiously.

“You’re in so much fucking luck or else I would have tracked you down and killed you by now.” Éponine growled through the phone. “After the stunt you pulled, I swear to god I could have ripped every single bone from your body made a dress, shoes and fuck it, matching jewellery maybe even a hat, worn it in public as I pulled your lifeless body after me with signs showing you as an example of someone who wants to destroy any shot of their dream career. Then I would have cut up your limbs and sold them all on the back market or even worse, sold them to some capitalist fucked up company to do with what they will, probably put them in their shitty over-priced food. Or displayed them all on my wall to warn others not to piss me off. Your head would be the door knocker. It’s like you don’t want to be successful.”

“That’s oddly graphic, how much time have you spent imagining that.” Enjolras pressed his lips together, beside him Grantaire side, watching him as he lay on his side. 

“The past twenty years, don’t try to change the subject.” 

“You said I was lucky though?”

“Yes, because luckily for you, I won’t act out that scene. I don’t know how the fuck you did it, but Floréal loved you. Apparently she’d never had someone walk out of her show before and she’s had more hits than ever before because of it. She said, and I quote, ‘he’s thoroughly entertaining to tease because he goes red and then gets angry and storms out like a toddler having a tantrum’ – so there. That’s accurate, it’s like she’s known you for as long as I have. She’s not going to slate you; she’s only going to sing your praises for the future, but that was only if I gave her your number. Which I did.”

“But I’m gay.” Enjolras reminded her.

“Yeah and so is she, she said you’re a character and she wants to become friends with you.” Éponine sighed, “I know you wanted to do this on your own, on your own merits but this could be really beneficial to you and 1832 – having Floréal on your side is the best thing that could happen to you Enjy, she’s super powerful in the music industry, once you’ve cracked her, you can crack the industry, become an international superstar and earn enough money to retire by the age of twenty-eight.”

“Become a sellout?”

“No, yes, I don’t know. You could get her to help or not, whatever, but I suggest – no I’m ordering you to befriend her. You can’t let this opportunity pass you when it could help both yours and the band’s careers if you ever need it. Think of her as a safety net instead of a means to fame, you’re not going to use her power and skills unless she offers and you really need it okay?”

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to swap jobs with ‘Fere?” 

“We’re kind of working together to manage and book things for your ungrateful ass, because apparently you’re a two-person job. Which came out wrong but whatever, you’re super difficult, I have al this pent up anger I can’t even unleash on you and I’m tried. You don’t have to use Floréal, but she’ll be there in case everything goes tits up, okay?”

“I get it.” Enjolras answered, annoyance creeping into his voice. He wasn’t a child, yet she seemed to think so.

“That’s the right attitude. Alright, well I’m going to go yell at Courfeyrac for kicks and I can’t yell at you more. Have fun where ever the fuck you are, see you when you turn up.” and with that she hung up.

“So, what was that?” Grantaire asked as Enjolras placed his phone back on the bedside table.

“Éponine informed me she isn’t going to hunt me down and murder me in a way she described very colourfully since Floréal wants to be friends.” Enjolras told him.

“Hey, that’s awesome.” Grantaire smiled, though Enjolras didn’t think it was quite as vibrant as normal, didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Now can we celebrate?”

Enjolras smirked, rolling over so he straddled Grantaire, “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title and inspiration from Halsey's 'Strange Love' - this is the start of all the angst and I'm sorry for that, though there's still fluffy moments in between, kind of. 
> 
> I didn't write the interview because it would've been dull, I've tried it but it fell flat. I imagine Enjolras singing to open then show then getting flustered and storming out once the questions got personal. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, you can find me at tumblr as beelzebertha.


End file.
